Probably the UK, it's cold over here.
Gooblefly Member
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Sounds good to me. I was hoping to have my character being from a different country, just arriving in town (California = hot place (or so I've heard) and ice Pokemon are probably not too easy to find in such a place) so she probably wouldn't know anyone else yet, but excluding that I'd be down for that as a starting point.
Name: Alice Kyte
Gender: Female
Age: 17
Appearance:
Personality: Alice is a clumsy, sometimes particularly ditsy girl, often making foolish mistakes simply because she hasn't thought something through properly before doing it. She is rather quiet around people she doesn't know particularly well, but once she gets acquainted, she can be incredibly bubbly and excited. In terms of her skills as a trainer, she is often quite reluctant to battle, much preferring the battling theory to the actual battling itself.
Abilities: Alice has a fantastic memory and has studied battle theory extensively.
Species: Swinub
Nickname: Celia
Ability: Ice Cloak
Level: 5.
Gender: Female
Moves: Tackle, Odor Sleuth, Powder Snow
Personality: Rather slow, but can be particularly aggressive in battle
Species: Darumaka
Nickname: Biscuits
Ability: Inner Focus (To Zen Mode upon evolve)
Level: 5
Gender: Male
Moves: Rollout, Incinerate
Personality: Incredibly smart, especially for its species, although a little distrusting as it was traded to Alice. As for combat capabilities, if he chooses to listen, he can unleash some devastating attacks.
Gender: Female
Age: 17
Appearance:
Personality: Alice is a clumsy, sometimes particularly ditsy girl, often making foolish mistakes simply because she hasn't thought something through properly before doing it. She is rather quiet around people she doesn't know particularly well, but once she gets acquainted, she can be incredibly bubbly and excited. In terms of her skills as a trainer, she is often quite reluctant to battle, much preferring the battling theory to the actual battling itself.
Abilities: Alice has a fantastic memory and has studied battle theory extensively.
Species: Swinub
Nickname: Celia
Ability: Ice Cloak
Level: 5.
Gender: Female
Moves: Tackle, Odor Sleuth, Powder Snow
Personality: Rather slow, but can be particularly aggressive in battle
Species: Darumaka
Nickname: Biscuits
Ability: Inner Focus (To Zen Mode upon evolve)
Level: 5
Gender: Male
Moves: Rollout, Incinerate
Personality: Incredibly smart, especially for its species, although a little distrusting as it was traded to Alice. As for combat capabilities, if he chooses to listen, he can unleash some devastating attacks.
This sounds like fun to me. I certainly love Pokemon RPs, the only issue is that I've been a little absent from the world of RPing, especially group RPing so I may be a little rusty. But, the idea certainly sounds intriguing and I'd love to give it a shot!
Sorry for the delay, I was moving home after the Christmas holidays, I'll make my post in a little while.
I was thinking a park... I wasn't being particularly inventive. Parks are nice.
I was thinking a park... I wasn't being particularly inventive. Parks are nice.
Matthew almost laughed when Ricki stepped in. His first thought, the first thing that broke its way through his thick skull and into his head, after all this was 'She can't be in here, this is the men's room'. God, he was such an idiot. He looked up at her from his position, slumped on the floor with his back against the toilet, his eyes were glazed over and his mouth agape. He had no clue what she had said, all he could hear was the persistent thump of his own heart as it calmed down. All of a sudden, he was in her arms, his mind suddenly clicked back into reality.
"I don't... You can't be here. I'll..." He couldn't bring himself to say it, he didn't want her to know he was a monster. He was in control now, but he didn't know what would spark his anger next. It never took much and without Roland... At the mere thought of his name, Matthew clenched his fists again and had to fight the urge to lash out and hit something again. If she stayed, he would hurt her. Matthew didn't know a lot, but he knew that. He knew he didn't want to hurt her, Ricki was nothing but a friend to him and the others, but was also sure that there was no way to stop him from hitting her if he went into another rage, and the thought of the ceremony happening as he sat here made his blood boil.
But he couldn't stop himself. He felt like a marionette, his hands lifted to take hers and his legs pulled his limp body to a standing position. He wanted to scream, he really wanted to hit something. Part of him wanted to hit her. He couldn't. What would Roland think? He let her take his bloody hand, he'd let her look at it, do whatever she wanted with it. All the while, he was screaming internally. His body acted independently, a series of numb, lifeless motions. It was all he could do whilst keeping the monster at bay. He wouldn't hurt her, no matter how much his muscles ached. His mind raced at the thought of it, all it would take is the tiniest flick of a wrist to knock her to the ground. Matthew was strong, probably a lot stronger than her. He felt sick about how much it excited him. He let his body take control, and fought the urges. He kept thinking about what Roland would tell him to do, how the others in the group would need him to be strong right now. Roland would need him to be strong. Eventually, after a few moments of standing in utter silence, he managed to speak.
"I'm okay."
---
Izzy turned her phone over and over in her hand, staring at nothing as tears streamed down her face. Keep crying. That's what she told herself. She needed others to know, she needed them to know she was hurting, needed to make sure that they knew that they were allowed to hurt too. She needed to hurt, that's what she was good for. Her pain helped others. She kept telling herself that, slowly yet surely rotating the phone in her hand. She focused on the knot in her stomach, on the pain in the back of her head. Hurt.
She meant nothing in the grand scheme of things, but other people were hurting and she had read somewhere on the internet that people were often scared to hurt and that could lead to some sort of mental issue, like bottling up pain or something? It was a long, wordy article that she probably didn't understand, but she figured that if she forced herself to suffer, then other people would feel safe to hurt too, and that meant something to them. She knew that she wouldn't be able to hurt for long before she would be forced to wear the smile again, to let others cry on her shoulder. That's what she was good for. That was all she was good for.
Suddenly, the phone in her hand buzzed, she yelped a little and it dropped to the floor. The noise seemed so loud to her, making the dull throb in the back of her mind flare up, but no-one else seemed to notice. She scrambled to grab it and checked the message. She knew that Chris was just behind her, and part of her wanted to turn around, to hold him and thank him for not thinking the idea was silly or stupid. She was glad to know that she wasn't the only one who thought that everything in the church was wrong, was not what Roland would have wanted. She texted him back, she said that she would appreciate the lift. She was in no position to drive, not like this, but in her mind, it was just another time where she was a burden and her friends were bailing her out. She would have to pay him back somehow.
"I don't... You can't be here. I'll..." He couldn't bring himself to say it, he didn't want her to know he was a monster. He was in control now, but he didn't know what would spark his anger next. It never took much and without Roland... At the mere thought of his name, Matthew clenched his fists again and had to fight the urge to lash out and hit something again. If she stayed, he would hurt her. Matthew didn't know a lot, but he knew that. He knew he didn't want to hurt her, Ricki was nothing but a friend to him and the others, but was also sure that there was no way to stop him from hitting her if he went into another rage, and the thought of the ceremony happening as he sat here made his blood boil.
But he couldn't stop himself. He felt like a marionette, his hands lifted to take hers and his legs pulled his limp body to a standing position. He wanted to scream, he really wanted to hit something. Part of him wanted to hit her. He couldn't. What would Roland think? He let her take his bloody hand, he'd let her look at it, do whatever she wanted with it. All the while, he was screaming internally. His body acted independently, a series of numb, lifeless motions. It was all he could do whilst keeping the monster at bay. He wouldn't hurt her, no matter how much his muscles ached. His mind raced at the thought of it, all it would take is the tiniest flick of a wrist to knock her to the ground. Matthew was strong, probably a lot stronger than her. He felt sick about how much it excited him. He let his body take control, and fought the urges. He kept thinking about what Roland would tell him to do, how the others in the group would need him to be strong right now. Roland would need him to be strong. Eventually, after a few moments of standing in utter silence, he managed to speak.
"I'm okay."
Izzy turned her phone over and over in her hand, staring at nothing as tears streamed down her face. Keep crying. That's what she told herself. She needed others to know, she needed them to know she was hurting, needed to make sure that they knew that they were allowed to hurt too. She needed to hurt, that's what she was good for. Her pain helped others. She kept telling herself that, slowly yet surely rotating the phone in her hand. She focused on the knot in her stomach, on the pain in the back of her head. Hurt.
She meant nothing in the grand scheme of things, but other people were hurting and she had read somewhere on the internet that people were often scared to hurt and that could lead to some sort of mental issue, like bottling up pain or something? It was a long, wordy article that she probably didn't understand, but she figured that if she forced herself to suffer, then other people would feel safe to hurt too, and that meant something to them. She knew that she wouldn't be able to hurt for long before she would be forced to wear the smile again, to let others cry on her shoulder. That's what she was good for. That was all she was good for.
Suddenly, the phone in her hand buzzed, she yelped a little and it dropped to the floor. The noise seemed so loud to her, making the dull throb in the back of her mind flare up, but no-one else seemed to notice. She scrambled to grab it and checked the message. She knew that Chris was just behind her, and part of her wanted to turn around, to hold him and thank him for not thinking the idea was silly or stupid. She was glad to know that she wasn't the only one who thought that everything in the church was wrong, was not what Roland would have wanted. She texted him back, she said that she would appreciate the lift. She was in no position to drive, not like this, but in her mind, it was just another time where she was a burden and her friends were bailing her out. She would have to pay him back somehow.
Don't ever worry about content! First of all, the post is great. Secondly, even if it was bad, I wouldn't mind. People are allowed bad posts and whatnot. I'm here to have fun and write, not to judge other people's posts.
Matthew sat in a bathroom stall, two halves of a piece of paper in his trembling hands. Roland's parents had asked him to speak at the funeral and he had tried, he tried so hard. He punched the wall in frustration, then yelped in the sudden shock of pain that raced through his already sore hand. Punching things is just what he did when he was angry, and he used to get angry so much. When he was a child, he was so angry all the time, he used to lash out at everything and anyone, he used to fight and hurt things all the time. Roland, Roland fixed him, he helped Matthew for no reason other than he just wanted to be friends with Matthew. He still got angry every now and again, but he never lashed out at people, only at things. He would punch a wall, or break a plate, something that didn't hurt anyone other than himself. That's the way it should have been. But, now Roland was...
Matthew practically screamed and began to lash out at the wall of the stall, kicking and yelling. He was covered in scrapes and bruises from all of the times he'd been angry in the last week or so, and every time he hit the wall, he would make a new one. With one, final blow he felt his knuckles split and a small trickle of blood began to run down his forearm and onto the tiled floor beneath his feet. He smudged it with his shiny black dress shoes. He hated this suit, it reminded him that he was at a funeral. He hated the speech, it reminded him he was an idiot. He hated everything about this place. It reminded him Roland was dead. Eventually, he collapsed, exhausted on the floor. He hadn't been aware that he had been crying, but now he couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his face. Roland was gone. He was angry again, he hated everything.
---
Izzy wished, she wished with all her might, that she could feel something. Her mind was numb and her mouth was dry. This was the first time she had stopped crying since... Since that. She needed to feel something again, to feel like she was sad. Everyone was sad, there were tears everywhere except on Izzy's face. She needed to cry, she needed to be sad. She didn't want other's to see her and think 'Oh look at Izzy, her friend just died and she isn't even crying. The funeral is over and now she's just going back to her old, happy life.'
Truth be told, during the ceremony, she felt nothing. She had put on her black dress, and sat in the pews of the church and watched as everyone remembered... It wasn't right, it wasn't right for Roland. It wasn't... that was when Izzy knew what to do. She pulled out her phone and quickly typed out a message.
"One hour, usual place? We'll remember him our way." and hit send. Suddenly, she sobbed, looking at the screen of her phone. She had sent out four texts. One to Ricki, one to Matthew, one to Chris and a final text to Roland's phone. He'd never read the message, he'd never see their place again. He wouldn't.. anything. Izzy started to cry, huge tears streaming down her cheeks, smudging what little makeup still remained. She had never felt this awful in her life and yet the feeling of warm tears streaming down her face and the sight of the message on her screen made her smile, ever so slightly.
Matthew practically screamed and began to lash out at the wall of the stall, kicking and yelling. He was covered in scrapes and bruises from all of the times he'd been angry in the last week or so, and every time he hit the wall, he would make a new one. With one, final blow he felt his knuckles split and a small trickle of blood began to run down his forearm and onto the tiled floor beneath his feet. He smudged it with his shiny black dress shoes. He hated this suit, it reminded him that he was at a funeral. He hated the speech, it reminded him he was an idiot. He hated everything about this place. It reminded him Roland was dead. Eventually, he collapsed, exhausted on the floor. He hadn't been aware that he had been crying, but now he couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his face. Roland was gone. He was angry again, he hated everything.
Izzy wished, she wished with all her might, that she could feel something. Her mind was numb and her mouth was dry. This was the first time she had stopped crying since... Since that. She needed to feel something again, to feel like she was sad. Everyone was sad, there were tears everywhere except on Izzy's face. She needed to cry, she needed to be sad. She didn't want other's to see her and think 'Oh look at Izzy, her friend just died and she isn't even crying. The funeral is over and now she's just going back to her old, happy life.'
Truth be told, during the ceremony, she felt nothing. She had put on her black dress, and sat in the pews of the church and watched as everyone remembered... It wasn't right, it wasn't right for Roland. It wasn't... that was when Izzy knew what to do. She pulled out her phone and quickly typed out a message.
"One hour, usual place? We'll remember him our way." and hit send. Suddenly, she sobbed, looking at the screen of her phone. She had sent out four texts. One to Ricki, one to Matthew, one to Chris and a final text to Roland's phone. He'd never read the message, he'd never see their place again. He wouldn't.. anything. Izzy started to cry, huge tears streaming down her cheeks, smudging what little makeup still remained. She had never felt this awful in her life and yet the feeling of warm tears streaming down her face and the sight of the message on her screen made her smile, ever so slightly.
I'm not sure if I'll get much time to either, but should I find a few minutes I'll make a post.
I would say just after the funeral? Maybe the four characters were unsatisfied with the actual ceremony and decide to do their own or something? Might be a nice starting point
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